


of drunkenness and candies.

by kristannuccia



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 19:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristannuccia/pseuds/kristannuccia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> even nando fails at times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	of drunkenness and candies.

**Author's Note:**

> so i wrote this out of pure impulse, it just.. it _happened_. i don't even know. entirely dedicated to tanja, and thanks to b and her constant help and support. ♥  
>  first published on july 23, 2010.

“Ew Fernando, you stink!”

Sergio shoves the striker who’s sitting crossed-legged next to him on the bed, one of his trademark pouts appearing on his lips just as soon as he lands on his side.

 

“Hey I don’t stink! _You_ do!” he mumbles, fluttering his eyelashes a bit. Sergio notices, and swallows. He nonchalantly hides his momentary turmoil by raising an eyebrow and composedly responds to the man sprawled beside him, a hint of false outrage in his voice.

 

“Fernando, this is D&G cologne. I can’t stink, for the love of god. You smell of candy. And popcorn” he dramatically sniffs deeply and grimaces “And ugh, _beer_. You need to stop spending so much time with Cesc or you’ll get fat again!”

 

Fernando’s big eyes widen. He’s the perfect portrait of innocence wearing that look, his full, soft bottom lip sticking out even more. His cheekbones are brightly flushed, the kiss of the South African winter sun highlighted by the fiery freckles dusting the otherwise smooth skin. Sergio’s guts twist lightly, but he ignores it and continues teasing his fellow Spaniard.

 

“Don’t pull that face on me Nando; you know it’s the truth. You’ll become fat and ugly and you’ll turn blond again if you keep eating candy.”

 

A big pillow hits the defender square in the face only moments after he finishes the sentence. He laughs and grabs the pillow, putting it between his head and the bed’s headboard, still smiling teasingly with his eyes transfixed on the moping man beside him.

 

“Fine.” The striker visibly sulks, pulling the most offended face he can muster on his tender features.

“I’ll go take a shower. Don’t you dare following me there, gringo.” His hand imitates a shooting gun and he rolls the last word on his tongue with slurry emphasis, before he crawls towards the end of the bed and gets onto his feet, trying to walk steadily enough to reach the bathroom without any major accidents. Sergio just huffs and shakes his head as he watches the scene.

 

In his very unsteady way, Fernando starts undressing himself. He pulls at the hem of his shirt haphazardly and somehow manages to take it off without running into anything in the process. The sudden display of flawed skin makes Sergio shift uncomfortably on the bed, his eyes fixating on the lean figure and the stretching and pulling of firm muscles underneath it. He notices how slowly Nando is walking, putting on a little show for him. He’s not sure if Nando does it intentionally or if it’s just in his nature to be the endearing creature he is, but he’s definitely enjoying whatever’s standing – or better yet, _swaying_ – in front of his eyes.

Nando stops walking to untie the knot in his track pants, slightly bending forward to study it more closely, resulting in Sergio blinking more than once to adjust his sight to that view. No matter how fat Fernando might become, he thinks, he’ll always have the best-shaped ass on the entire planet. His thought is shaken away by the striker’s words.

 

“Don’t stare at my ass like that, I can feel you!”

 

Sergio finds himself blushing furiously, and urges himself to get busy with something before Fernando actually gets a chance to catch him red-handed. He decides then that the remote is the most interesting thing in the room for now and begins studying it attentively, right before the other man actually turns his back to check on him.

 

“You’re drunk! Go get into that shower already, you moron!” He keeps his eyes on the remote while speaking, too afraid of blowing his cover and starts blushing again.

 

Fernando lets out a light giggle and smiles sheepishly before getting back to fidget with his pants. Sergio lets out a soft sigh and smiles to himself.

After a few minutes of struggling, Nando’s sight can’t focus on the knot anymore, crossing over and over and almost making him lose his balance, his body dangerously swaying back and forth. In his drunken state of mind, he decides that untying the knot actually isn’t that essential to be able to slip out of his pants. Groaning and mumbling some completely unintelligible words, he starts to literally fight with his tracksuit, pulling it down forcedly, trying to slip past the tight constriction of the knotted waistband.

Sergio turns to check on him again, and can’t keep from laughing when he sees the striker involved in one of the most unflattering situations he’s ever witnessed. He’s trying to keep his pants on with one hand while the other is attempting to pull his tracksuit down, contorting and rocking his hips and stomping his feet on the loose ends of the track to try to get rid of the garment. All this while trying not to completely lose his balance – and the remnants of his dignity.

Sergio licks his lips and moves forward, laying himself on his belly and propping his elbow on the bed, his chin resting in his hand. He raises his eyebrows just the tiniest bit, blinking from time to time, a little dimple forming on his cheek while his crooked smile gradually widens.

The striker looks at him briefly, his cheek flushed and his nose scrunched in the effort of making his plan work out. After even more struggling, he finally manages to slip out of his tracksuit decently enough, and kicks the garment away with one of his socked feet. He straightens up rapidly, trying to look nonchalant by pulling his chin up and raising his eyebrows.

 

“See? I’m not fat; I can still slip out of my pants without untying them.”

 

Sergio immediately starts laughing wholeheartedly at that, and buries his face into his crossed arms, muffling the fresh sound of his voice against the covers of the bed. He’s really regretting not having brought his video camera to South Africa right now.

 

“What? It’s true! Stop laughing at me!”

 

He leans towards the wall and pulls one of his socks off, making a ball of it and throws it towards the bed where it doesn’t even manage to cover half of the distance between him and Sergio. He stomps his foot on the ground in frustration and storms towards the bathroom, entering the room and half-closing the door behind him. Sergio finds himself laughing even harder, but manages to speak between gulps of air.

 

“Oh come on Nando, I love you! Don’t be mad!”

 

The answer that comes from the shower is clear and poignant.

“Sergio Ramos García. Don’t you play the ‘smooch-smooch-I-love-you-baby-let’s-make-out’ card on me because it won’t work. I’m going on a sex strike and you can’t do anything about it!”

 

Sergio hisses and bites one of his knuckles, grimacing a bit, aware of the fact that he really wouldn’t be able to convince the striker to change his mind anytime soon. He tries answering back anyway.

“But-”

 

“No buts, Sergio, I am dead serious.”

 

Okay, it didn’t work. The defenders sighs.

“Fine, Nando, whatever you want.” He knows that Fernando thankfully won’t remember anything about that the following morning. He barely remembers his name whenever he wakes up in his full beer&candy hangover.

 

Just as soon as he’s ready to turn the TV on to try and get his mind off Fernando’s tempting body for a while, the striker speaks again.

 

“Besides,” he yells “You’re lying when you tell me that I’ll turn blond again after eating too much candy! Cesc and I tried it once already and it didn’t work!”

 


End file.
